Comments on: On Death and Grieving http://buttershug.com/people/family/on-death-and-grieving/ Words and photographs from a Buttershug Wed, 04 Jan 2012 17:34:48 +0000 hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.3.1 By: myla http://buttershug.com/people/family/on-death-and-grieving/comment-page-1/#comment-15 myla Fri, 12 Feb 2010 19:06:15 +0000 http://buttershug.com/?p=226#comment-15 {{{hugs}}} {{{hugs}}}

]]> By: Nikki Murray http://buttershug.com/people/family/on-death-and-grieving/comment-page-1/#comment-14 Nikki Murray Fri, 12 Feb 2010 12:07:28 +0000 http://buttershug.com/?p=226#comment-14 It's hard to believe it's been three years. Sometimes the wound feels so fresh. There are times that I still think about reaching for the phone when there's something I want to tell or ask him about. He was definitely loved. He was the surrogate father figure for most of his siblings. He walked all of my aunts down the aisle at their weddings. We all miss him and I know it's been difficult for everyone. It's a club I could have lived without a membership to for at least a few more decades, for certain. xoxo It’s hard to believe it’s been three years. Sometimes the wound feels so fresh. There are times that I still think about reaching for the phone when there’s something I want to tell or ask him about.

He was definitely loved. He was the surrogate father figure for most of his siblings. He walked all of my aunts down the aisle at their weddings. We all miss him and I know it’s been difficult for everyone.

It’s a club I could have lived without a membership to for at least a few more decades, for certain.

xoxo

]]> By: myla http://buttershug.com/people/family/on-death-and-grieving/comment-page-1/#comment-12 myla Thu, 11 Feb 2010 04:44:45 +0000 http://buttershug.com/?p=226#comment-12 Dear Nikki, Has it been 3 years already? I remember when all of this was happening and writing to you via flickr at the time, and the rush of emotion that I felt at looking at your photos, wishing there was something I could do. I understand the pain of losing your father all too well, mine passed away on 9/5/1995 and not a day goes by that I don't miss him, not a single day. In your last two sentences, you so beautifully said how I've felt ever since my Mom died (in 1982): you're absolutely right. In a world where everything is instantaneous and faster-better-more, it's hard for people who have not lost to understand the grieving process. Losing someone you love is not something you "get over". I don't think we could possibly ever 'get over' losing our parents, or our sister, or our children, instead we have to learn to live in a world where they are no longer. And I'm not sure how you do it, except that sometimes it's one day at a time, sometimes it's one hour at a time. It's blog posts like this one, memorials (like my friend Dave's website for his daugher -- rhiannonmiller.com), that help us all to go on. And remind us of those we love, and how precious that love is. To not take the people we love for granted, and to tell them so while we have them here. Your Dad sounds like he was extremely loved by his family. If that's not the greatest legacy a man can leave, I don't know what is. {{hugs}} Dear Nikki,

Has it been 3 years already? I remember when all of this was happening and writing to you via flickr at the time, and the rush of emotion that I felt at looking at your photos, wishing there was something I could do.

I understand the pain of losing your father all too well, mine passed away on 9/5/1995 and not a day goes by that I don’t miss him, not a single day.

In your last two sentences, you so beautifully said how I’ve felt ever since my Mom died (in 1982): you’re absolutely right. In a world where everything is instantaneous and faster-better-more, it’s hard for people who have not lost to understand the grieving process. Losing someone you love is not something you “get over”. I don’t think we could possibly ever ‘get over’ losing our parents, or our sister, or our children, instead we have to learn to live in a world where they are no longer. And I’m not sure how you do it, except that sometimes it’s one day at a time, sometimes it’s one hour at a time.

It’s blog posts like this one, memorials (like my friend Dave’s website for his daugher — rhiannonmiller.com), that help us all to go on. And remind us of those we love, and how precious that love is. To not take the people we love for granted, and to tell them so while we have them here.

Your Dad sounds like he was extremely loved by his family.

If that’s not the greatest legacy a man can leave, I don’t know what is.

{{hugs}}

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